


Eat your Heart out

by jiminchus



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood, Blood Kink, Blood Magic, Bloodplay, College!AU, Demon!AU, M/M, Stiles is a wiccan, derek hale is a demon, witch!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-09-18 09:16:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9378149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jiminchus/pseuds/jiminchus
Summary: Stiles quickly sat up in the patio chair as an idea clicked in his mind. What a better way to help him succeed in his exams than to cast a spell? Nothing could go wrong, right?





	1. Chapter 1

Stiles flung his pen down on his desk with an exasperated sigh. With his mind in a fog from the stress, there was no way studying was an option right now. He needed some fresh air and some room to think. He takes off his glasses, laying them upon the open psychology textbook as he swiveled around in his chair to get up.

He trudges over to the patio doors, swinging them open, and stepping outside. Stiles immediately takes in a deep breath of the night air, exhaling slowly through his nose. He basically fell in one of the patio chairs, gazing up at the stars like as if they personally offended him.

They didn't do anything. Stiles was just riddled with anxiety over his upcoming exams. He was convinced that he was going to fail despite all the hard work that he put into this semester.  Why did he choose psychology as his major?

Sometimes he wonders if he should have stuck to being a part of the law enforcement like his father suggested. But he wasn't going wimp out and go to the police academy. If he passed his exams, he could soon after graduate and receive his degree.

However, that was the dilemma; him passing.

He wasn't sure if all college students went through this at some point or if it was just him, but he was terrified to the point he was shaking. He even had a panic attack at the library earlier today, and he highly doubted that he'd show his face around there anytime soon.

His friend Scott assumed that he was overreacting, but what did he know? He was too busy shoving his tongue down his girlfriend's throat to even care about exams. Besides, he had no idea getting his bachelor's meant to Stiles.

He wanted to be a Psychiatric Technician who provides hands-on care to people with varying degrees of mental illness and/or developmental disabilities. He wanted to help those who were like his late mother, who had been schizophrenic.

So you understand why he needed to do this.

He really needed to pass. He'd do _**anything**_ to pass.

Maybe even....

Stiles quickly sat up in the patio chair as an idea clicked in his mind. What a better way to help him succeed in his exams than to cast a spell?

About two month’s ago, Erica Reyes, a friend of his, introduced him to the craft and ever since he’s _**obsessed**_ with it. He hasn’t practiced that much but watched Erica perform them, and if she could do it, he definitely could.

It was just a simple spell. Nothing could go wrong, right?

He dragged all his tools, along with his copy of the Book of Shadow’s that Erica gave him, out of his closet. He sat crisscrossed on the floor flipping through it, biting at his thumbnail. Some of these were in a different language that he didn’t understand. Stiles had to use Google Translate on his phone to translate it.

Still, he couldn’t find the spell that he was looking for. Stiles about to throw his hands up and quit until he stumbled upon one. It translated Conjure Prosperity in Google. It was good enough for Stiles.

He lays out the rug embroidered with a pentacle, arranging five candles on each point and one in the middle, lighting them one by one. After he flicks the lights off, he stands in front of the pentacle, taking a dagger and slitting the inside of his right hand, wincing as the blade slices into his skin.

"With this blood offering I ask for prosperity," Stiles says firmly, outstretching his hand, allowing the blood drip onto the candle in the middle.

He repeats the incantation five more times, and it’s over. All he has to do now is blow out the candles.

“That was simple,” Stiles huffs, blowing out the last candle.  


_Erica just makes it look difficult_ , his mind provided, as he went to turn the lights back on.

The dark room suddenly bursts with light once more when he flicks the switch back on with his elbow. He was using his other hand to keep pressure on the wound on the other. The pain was bull ache now, but it was still seeping blood. He needed to disinfect and bandage it. Stiles pivots around to head to his bathroom but freezes in mid-step when he looks up.

There was a man standing in the middle of the pentacle.

And boy, was he _**gorgeous**_. The dude looked like a fricking _**model**_ standing there in his leather jacket and tight jeans. He’s tan and a little bit taller than Stiles, black curls that Stiles could just run his fingers through, a chiseled stubbled jaw that he wouldn't mind if it stubble burns on his thighs, and...

his eyes were pure _**black**_. Blacker than the leather he wore. That...That wasn’t _**normal**_.

Stiles stumbles back into the wall, staring at the man with a horrified expression.

“What’s the matter?” the man taunts, a knowing smirk on his perfect mouth. “You look absolutely _**frightened**_. It’s _**delicious**_.”  


“W-What are you?” Stiles croaks.  


The man steps out the pentacle towards him, and Stiles should be pissed that he knocked the candles in his path over, getting wax all over his carpet, but he was too scared to even care at this moment.

He was too scared of the demon that was approaching him.

“You know what I am,” the man chuckles, coming to a stop a few feet in front him. “I mean, you did summon me, after all.”  


Oh, Stiles has fucked up _**big time**_.

“Oh my God,” Stiles squeaks, pressing himself into the wall as if he was hoping that it would open and swallow him whole before the demon did.  


The man grinned almost manically, reaching out and grasping Stiles’ wrist, making him cry out because, hello, that was his _**wounded**_ hand. Rude much.

“You bleed pretty,” the demon croons, watching as blood oozed out of the boy’s palm.    


Stiles tries to yank his wrist free, but the demon has a tight grip on it. The demon makes a ‘tsking’ noise at Stiles before turning back to the self-inflicted wound, "I wonder if it tastes as pretty as it looks."

"W-What?"

Stiles makes a startled noise in his throat when a forked tongue darts out from the demon's lips and slides over the cut gradually, making the demon shutter with pleasure.

"Mm," the demon moaned, with eyes closed. "You taste marvelous. _**Like mine**_."

"P-Please," Stiles pleads, tears pricking at his eyes. "L-Let go."

The demon's eyes flutter open, and to Stiles' surprise, they're not longer black. They're a majestic green with gold flecks in them.

"Why should I?” the creature asks, cupping Stiles’ face with a free hand, claws digging into the boy’s flesh as he smirks. “From here on out, your heart belongs to ** _me_**.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Stiles has a panic attack. :(

It felt like a breath had been literally punched out of Stiles, “ _W-What?_ ” 

He squeaks when the clawed fingers resting on his cheek slides down his neck, down his torso and against his rib cage where his heart was beating _furiously_. The demon chuckles, a low rumble in his chest and the smirk he was wearing earlier now a full-blown predatory grin. 

You know, Erica warned him about doing spells alone, that it was better to perform in a group. But did Stiles listen? No, no he did not. So, let this be a lesson to the new Wiccans out there; do not use magic unless you’re in a group or know what the _FUCK_ you're doing, or you’ll suffer a fate like Stiles Stilinski did. Heart ripped out by a hot, god-sculpted demon and feasted upon as if it was some fucking _gourmet dinner_.

The demon suddenly frowns, eyebrows furrowing together into one large fuzzy caterpillar on his gorgeous face, “Jesus, you’re having a panic attack.”  


Stiles then realises that he’s shaking uncontrollably, his breathing was coming out in short pants as. He was, in fact, having another panic attack. He squeezes his eyes shut as tears leak out from the corner of his eyes.

“Y-Yeah, no f-fucking k-kidding,” Stiles wheezes, almost doubling over from nausea that suddenly overwhelmed him. “Y-Y-You’re going t-to kill m-me!”  


“Open your eyes and look at me,” the demon demands, grasping his chin.  


Stiles frantically shook his head, grasping at the demon’s wrist and trying to push him away, but alas the man would not budge. It was like he was pushing at a fucking solid ass wall. 

He heard the creature hiss under his breath, “Honestly, you humans are so _incredibly_ dense.”  


Demon or not, if he wasn’t amidst of having a panic attack right now, Stiles would _so_ have a go at him. 

“C’mon, breathe with me, relax,” the demon spoke again, his tone gentler than before and Stiles felt his hands cup both sides of his face. "Slow, deep, complete breaths, okay? Slowly breathe in for four seconds, hold it for seven, exhale for eight. Ready?"  


Stiles nodded hesitantly, not quite sure what the demon’s intentions were by helping him, but his head felt like it was going to explode at any moment where he wasn’t getting the proper oxygen. So, he had no other choice but to relax and follow the demon’s breathing exercise. 

Once he got calmed down, Stiles' eyes finally fluttered open, only to peer into those gorgeous diverse eyes of greens and blues-flecked with gold that were just inches away. They were so close that Stiles could feel the creature’s lips brush oh so faintly against his bottom lip. If he tilted his head just a _tad_ , they would slot together so perfect-- -  


Suddenly reality hit him _hard_.

This was a demon. A demon who wanted to _EAT_ him, for god sakes!

Stiles screeched, shoving at the creature's chest. It must've startled him because the demon actually stumbled back far enough for Stiles to escape. He ran to his nightstand, yanking it open and dug through it until he found his mother's golden cross necklace. 

"You little brat," he could hear the demon approaching, and he sounded pissed.

Stiles whipped around, thrusting the cross out, "S-Stay back, you hellion!"

The demon paused mid-step, eyes narrowed at the cross as if it personally offended him.

“Really?” the demon glared up at Stiles, causing a shiver to go down the human’s spine. “That’s how you treat someone after they saved your precious little human life? By shoving a cross in their face? Typical humans....”  


“Y-You caused it! You were going to kill me!”  


“I didn’t, though, did I?”  


He...actually had a good point there. He had the perfect opportunity earlier, but instead, he helped Stiles get through his panic attack. So...why didn't he just end it there? Why go through all this trouble?

"Why d-didn't you?" Stiles finally asked. "I mean..., why didn't you kill me?"

The demon shrugs with a smirk, "Believe me, with blood that delicious I wouldn't have hesitated, but seeing the consequences I will face if I don't follow the DA's rules..., I'd rather wait the ten years to finally taste your heart."

"W-What do you mean by rules? Ten years?" Stiles was completely confused. 

"What do _you_ mean?" the man tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. "You did summon me, a bargaining demon, to form a contract, right?" 

“A-A bargaining d-demon,” Stiles repeated, panic overwhelming him again. “You’re a...oh, my _God_.”  


He picked up his Book of Shadows that was laying on his bed an frantically flipped through it until he found the spell he used earlier. 

“Sie a Paciscor,” he whispered quietly, furrowing his brow as his eyes scanned down the foreign words. “I’m certain I performed it correctly, so why did it summon a bargaining demon?!  


“It means Conjure a Deal,” the demon spoke up, laughter dancing in his tone.   


Stiles turns to him, “What?! B-But in Google it translated-- -”

“What kind of Witch uses technology to translate a spell,” the demon huffs, rolling his eyes and folding his arms over his board chest.  


“I-I’m not a Witch..., I’m just a Wiccan,” Stiles mutters. “I was only wanting some help passing my exams....”  


“Ah, that explains it then,” the demon chuckled, slowly making his way towards to boy with a feral grin. “It seems that you’ve..., how you human’s say, _royally_ fucked up. The rules state, which if you knew Latin you’d already know, that if you summon me, you must have a deal that you are ready to place or be ready to dragged into hell and be my slave for an eternity.” 

Fuck. _Fuck_.

“There is no way out of this?”  


“Not unless you make a deal with me,” the demon says, stopping a couple of feet in front of him. “then you’ll be able to live for ten years.”  


Stiles hugged the book to his chest tightly. He didn’t have anything he wanted to make a deal for. Sure, he wanted to pass his exams, but was that really worth giving up the rest of his life for?

“I-I don’t know...what I want.”  


“So you choose hell?”   


“No!” Stiles looked at up, tears welling in his eyes.  


“Then choose,” the demon growled.  


“I-I can’t! N-Not when I’m pressured like this....C-Can’t you give a day or two?! Something!”

The creature eyed him quietly before saying.

“I can give you forty-eight hours, but when those forty-eight hours are up, you must choose to make a deal or become my slave. Understand?”

Stiles nodded frantically, “Y-Yes!”

“Alright,” the demon groaned. “I can’t believe I’m actually doing this, but I will be back in forty-eight hours. Be prepared.”  


Before Stiles could reply, he blinked and the man had disappeared. Stiles let out a breath of relief, plopping down onto his bed and buried his face into his hands.

He was sooooooo fucked.

He hoped Erica could get him out of this. 

God, please let Erica get him out of this.


End file.
